


Labyrinth of Your Pain

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Body Horror, Carried to safety, Forced to Watch, Horror, Interrogation, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death, Psychological Horror, Torture, Used As Bait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Shiro goes to a meeting in Kolivan's place, thinking he had a gang of rogue Galra fooled, only to realize too late the intended target was Keith all along, and Shiro himself was the bait.





	Labyrinth of Your Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soulstoned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulstoned/gifts).

“Pidge…are you…are you able to decrease the…decrease the gravitation in the vicinity?” 

Shiro’s voice quivered as he spoke into the comms of his helmet. The words barely made it out, slipping into whispers and tumbling into choked sobs. He stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath before repeating his request even as his hands trembled. He was elbow-deep drenched in blood, one hand shakily touching Keith’s unmoving form—just a ghost of a touch, afraid to break him more than he already was.

Pidge didn’t have to ask any questions. They had all been transmitted the same video. “Of course, Shiro.”

⁂

It had been a trap. They had seen it coming and were prepared. A diplomatic meeting invitation to Kolivan and Kolivan alone, with the explicit instruction to come alone, had raised suspicion—after all, ever since the war had ended, Kolivan had found himself the target of many Galra who would not accept the new direction the former empire was headed.

“Their home-planet is fully restored and they have more negotiations and peaceful relations with others planets—places they used to war with!” Hunk had complained. “People are willing to let bygone be bygones, what gives?!”

“Some Galra just wanna watch the universe burn,” Lance had said as he gazed out into the Altean sunset. 

Kolivan at first had rejected Shiro’s offer accompanying him, but Shiro had insisted.

“We’ve seen first hand how dirty Galra pirates can play,” Shiro had said, remembering the time he had nearly lost his husband Keith. That was seven years ago. Keith was currently busy on a mission with Allura and some of the new Vehicle Voltron recruits, stationed to aid a population of Puigians to their new home-planet.

“And what is your plan?” Kolivan had asked.

“New disguise technology thanks to Pidge and Professor Page. You’re staying back. I’m dealing with the pirates myself.”

⁂

But the Galra were anticipating foul-play. Unmasked, Shiro found himself surrounded by Galra, wielding high-voltage picanas, whips with electric lashes, laser guns, daggers, and an array of other creative tools for torture and murder.

Like back at the arena, Shiro thought with a bitter smile, and charged at one Galra after another. They kept coming; put down one Galra, and three more would take their place. On this went until Shiro was pressed against the wall, cornered.

“Filthy primitive animal,” one Galra spat in his face. Drurax was his name. 

Shiro grinned, knowing he had taken out that Galra’s partner. Thurllal had cried out Drurax’s name as Shiro impaled through his chest with his bionic hand. “Want to know what happens to an animal that’s cornered?”

“I’d like to see what this animal will do after it’s head rolled off!” 

Drurax pressed the edge of his sword against Shiro’s neck; tiny beads of red welled above the metal when a flash bolted right above Shiro’s head, striking Drurax and a few more Galra near him.

“No,” Shiro gasped under his breath. Who told Keith of Shiro’s plan? He was supposed to be with Allura, the Land Team, and Puigians looking for a new home in another galaxy, not here! 

“Shiro,” Keith panted. He shielded Shiro’s body with his own. “Are you okay?”

Drurax studied Keith, to Shiro, back to Keith, and a dark smile curled about his lips as understanding dawned. And all Shiro could do, held in place by Galra twice his height and three times as strong, was watch as Keith was overpowered and dragged away.

⁂

Left behind, Shiro stared at the empty hall, dumbfounded. This wasn’t how this was to go. If anyone was going to come out with injuries it’d be him—_how the hell did Keith know he was in danger?!_

He scoured the labyrinth, trailing Keith’s cries of torment. His voice ricocheted off the metal walls, haunting him, prickling the hair on back of his neck. 

“Where are you?” he asked hollowly. “Why did you come for me?—_where are you?!_”

“Pidge, can you locate Keith?” Shiro asked. 

“Negative,” Pidge said. “I’m getting interference—the Galra, they—they must know we’d be watch—Shiro, are you seeing this?!” 

The comms on his bionic arm blinked and he pressed the button. A holographic video recording appeared over his arm.

“Wonderful of you to stop by,” Drurax said. “Knew your husband’s stupid nobility would trap you in.” 

_What?_ Shiro’s body turned cold. Were they after Keith all this time? 

He watched as Keith lunged at one of the Galra, only to get kicked hard in the gut. Striking the wall with a loud grunt, he fell to the floor. One of the men trampled on Keith with his heavy boot until blood jetted from the corner of his mouth—Shiro shouldn’t watch but couldn’t look away—someone grabbed Keith by the root of his hair and dragged him away. The image changed. 

“Now…what it is you and the Blades planning with that new Galra leader?” Drurax demanded. Keith was stretched over a metal table; long, thin rods stuck from his fingers. 

Shiro’s heart hammered in his chest; was this video live? It didn’t match the screaming ricocheting off the walls. 

It didn’t matter what was live and what wasn’t. They intended to harm Keith all along. They knew Shiro would come instead of Kolivan, knew he would do anything to protect Kolivan—they had targeted Keith all along—_damn me, I was so stupid!_

He broke into a run, but half of him wanted to keep watching, terrified of knowing what they were doing to Keith but also needing to know—perhaps something in the empty room would pinpoint him where Keith was kept. 

Keith’s pained and panicked screams trembled the walls. 

Each time Shiro set his arm down, his mind flared with horrifying images. The interrogation in the video didn’t match Keith’s screams—this wasn’t live—his fingers were already crushed, broken, bleeding—no, no, his mind twisted the image further: Keith with his entrails ripped from him, Drurax slashing Keith from his throat to his navel, Keith blinded, skinned alive, bones ripped through his body—

_Stop it_, Shiro begged as he steadied himself against the wall. _Stop it. You have to be strong for Keith. This isn’t the arena. They know your weakness. Don’t let it get to you!_

Pounding against the metal wall, Shiro took deep, shuddering breaths and focused, Keith’s voice trembling in the video and blaring, agonized, in the radio overhead, and somewhere deep in the labyrinth, Keith himself, begging for his life. He followed the source of his husband’s voice, screwing his eyes against the flurry of screams. 

“What are the Blades planning?” Drurax’s voice carried, low and deadly, from the video. 

“Nothing that you wouldn’t already know if you actually paid attention to the news of your empress,” Keith spat. His voice gurgled—_blood_, Shiro realized and quickly pushed the panic away. “Our intentions aren’t secret. The Galra want peace. The Galra want to return to their normal lives. It’s the likes of _you_ who cling on to hate!”

A hiss and something was struck—someone cried out—_hang in there, Keith_—Shiro growled and plowed on. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction—not his Keith—but all around him was Keith’s suffering—_because of me; damn it, Keith, why did you come save me—damn me, why didn’t I think of the possibility this was all a trap—_

“Keith!” Shiro stopped dead in his tracks, having finally found him. Keith, bloodied but otherwise all right, had been attached to the walls such that half his body was completely submerged into the metal.

“Shiro!” Keith wept. “I can’t move!”

“Hold on, I’ll get you out!” He tugged and gently pried Keith away from the wall, but it was as though he had been fused right into it.

“Shiro, just leave me! Go back to the Atlas!” Keith wept. “I was stupid coming here!”

“I’ll get you out,” Shiro promised. How do? He eyed Keith’s legs, which were the parts of him giving Shiro most trouble. He hated doing this to someone he loved, especially bringing any drop of pain on Keith, but it would ensure survival...

Activating his bionic hand, he cleaved though Keith’s legs right below the knees. Keith gasped in his ear, and suddenly turned to cold laughter.

“Try again.”

“Wha—_no!_” Shiro watched, helpless, as Keith disappeared right in his arms. In that exact same moment, an agonized voice called out his name, and Shiro turned towards the source. 

“Shiro…” Keith’s eyes were wide, haunted. “I hate this place! Let’s get out of here!”

Shiro chuckled, shaking away the mirage from earlier. “Yeah, it’s—”

He reached for Keith, but in that exact moment beams from a laser gun shot out, striking Keith in his legs. He fell forward; Shiro broke his fall just in time, but another shot aimed for Keith’s head, and—Shiro screamed and dropped Keith, or what _wasn’t_ Keith after all.

Shaking, he left into the halls, searching while his heart still hammered hard, leapt to his throat. 

“Shiro…”

In the next room was Keith, lying in a pool of his own blood, his skin torn from his body. 

“Shiro...help me,” he begged. 

Shiro inched closer hesitantly, remembering what had just happened moments ago, while his heart and mind seared: this was _Keith_, he had to save him!

But this Keith too was a mirage, as was the following, a Keith who emerged from the shadows, both sockets devoid of eyes, blood streaking his cheeks, he moaned for Shiro as his thin arms stretched out, searching—and following him were countless more Keiths, all haunting Shiro, their hands roaming for him, begging to be saved, all dripping in blood or massacred right before his eyes. Their voices merged into a crescendo until Shiro clamped his hands over his ears, his head ringing with horror and pain; assaulted by flurry of Keiths and Keith’s voice echoing in the walls and Keith being tormented in the video and the memories, the scent of blood, the sight of Keith, Keith dead, Keith ripped apart, smell of blood, his fault, his own hands drenched in blood—

He screamed and screamed until Keith’s own cries were finally drowned out by Shiro’s own. 

And then that was when the thought came to Shiro. 

Pausing, Shiro checked back on the video. Rewinded. Focused. Studied it. The screaming in the walls matched with the video...by a three minute delay.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Shiro powered through the obstacles of other Keiths, focusing on the one, the real Keith, face to face in a bloody battle with Drurax—

He rounded a corner just as Keith’s voice blared so badly in his ears they nearly bled, and he saw him at last: lying in a heap, alone, bleeding, and buried under rubble. 

Somehow, this time Shiro knew this wasn’t a trick. 

He quickly checked the video on his wrist; it played the scene: Keith’s failing battle with Drurax, the wall being blown, set off by one of the other Galra using red syntian nitrate, burying Keith under, Drurax spitting on Keith’s lifeless form before making off with his men. 

“Stay with me, Keith.” Shiro lifted each piece of heavy debris with his bionic hand. Tossing off the final piece, he fell to his knees beside Keith; his husband’s eyes weren't even open. He didn’t move.

“Keith?” Pain gripped Shiro. All around him still Keith’s voice rang, his torment played on a loop. Keith lay still, drenched in blood. His blood had splattered all over the wall when it came down on him, and then smeared on Shiro while he lifted it off him. So much blood—his fault, his fault. 

_Stop it_, Shiro urged himself. _You aren’t in the arena. This isn’t the arena!_

Keith said no word, moved not an inch. 

He performed a vitals scan with his bionic arm and winced when diagnostics appeared. Broken ribs. Spinal injury. Ruptured spleen—_fuck_.

He couldn’t even lift Keith, not in this state. Any wrong move and he’ll lose him. But if he delayed any further, Keith will die. 

He opened communications in his helmet and contacted Pidge.

“Of course, Shiro.” 

He raised the visor of his helmet as gravity decreased in the vicinity. The walls shook again, this time giving way to the Green Lion. Swimming towards Keith as he floated up, eerily still and pale, he gently guided him towards the Green Lion’s awaiting jaws. 

“You did well,” Shiro said gently to Keith as he lay in the new Altean healing pod, carefully set as not to damage his spine any further. “Heal, rest, and come back to me.”


End file.
